


Will Graham and the Lithuanian

by EmiliaSpring



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Hannibal is a Cannibal, IT Crowd inspired, M/M, Poor Will, Will answers an advertisement, Will tries new things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9189485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiliaSpring/pseuds/EmiliaSpring
Summary: In which Will Graham answers an advertisement, and gets more than he bargained for.orThe real reason why Hannibal no longer has a secretary.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, my first fanfic ever, and it just so happens to be basically crack. Crack for the Hannibal fandom! I was extremely nervous to post this, especially considering how ridiculously talented everyone is in the fandom, but I figured I might as well contribute this... less than ideal offering. Oddly enough, this is heavily inspired by the IT Crowd. I was watching the episode in which Moss encounters a special German, and I knew that I had to write this.

Will Graham was not one to try new things. He was perfectly content to stay at home with his litter of dogs, while the radio filled the gaps of dull silence around him.

“You should meet other people Will, and get out a little more. Having other friends wouldn’t hurt, you know!” Beverly had admonished, encouraging him to abandon his current lifestyle of seclusion and proclivity for strays.

Thus, on a Friday night, when his evening would have otherwise been filled with warm drink and known comforts, Will stood on the steps of a lavish house, an hour’s drive from his Wolf Trap haven.

_You don’t have to do this. You can go home._

But Beverly would continue to nag, and as if in agreeance, the wind pushes him closer to the door, encouraging him. Closer now, he could hear muted sounds of a melody wafting, the pitch foreign, but magnetizing. _Am I at the right place?_ Slowly, he reaches out and bangs on the door, half expecting to be ignored, but the sounds halt and the door swings open.

“Mr. Graham?”

“Um yes. I’m Will Graham. Hi. ” The words jumble out.

“Please come in. I’m Dr. Hannibal Lecter. You’re right on time.” If Hannibal notices Will’s state of nervousness and damp palms, he opts not to comment on it, but nonetheless warmly invites the frazzled man into his large home.

“You’re a doctor?” Will asks, as Hannibal smoothly aids him in removing his coat, and places it on the rack near the front door. “Uh thanks.” Will’s eyes linger on the washed out wrinkles of the green coat, now away from his person. With the close proximity to the doctor, he hears a sharp intake of breath that one makes when… _Did he just sniff me?_

“Anyways, I use to be a surgeon, but now I work more with the mending of the minds. So I do have quite a bit of experience, if you’re concerned with my accreditation.” His accented voice rolls out confidently.

_Is it too late to cancel this?_

Hannibal leads him to the living room, rich eyes, almost maroon never leaving the nervous frame, surveying him as though he were prey. _No, not too late_ Will thinks, but makes no motion to depart. The burden of prospective loneliness weighs down his feet.

Will’s blues look everywhere but the predator standing comfortably at the center of the room. From occasional glimpses on the periphery when he hopes the doctor isn’t looking, he notes his host’s striking features. All the sharp lines and contours, dustings of rich maroon and ruby to mark eyes and mouth, and hair a jumble of grey, blond and brown that Will wouldn’t mind studying carefully tendril by tendril. _What, am I going to pick apart his hair to look for bugs like a gorilla?_

Shaking the thought from his mind, he musters the courage to make direct eye contact before averting his gaze to a statue standing behind Hannibal instead. “Your home is very lovely.” He tries to quickly scan all the furnishings, plants and sculptures that artfully equips the house. “It kind of looks like a museum here.” He adds softly.

Hannibal smiles and bristles with muted pride. “Thank you for your kind words. May I offer you a drink?” And when Will nods in the affirmative, he notes another surveying glance before Hannibal leaves for the kitchen with a pleased hum.

“Here you go.” Hannibal returns with two drinks in hand. Will eyes the drink for a bit before gulping it down.

“So, can we just get this started?”  Embolden by the alcohol, Will makes eye contact with Hannibal for the first time all evening.

“Well, I usually like to take my time. All things pleasurable should be savoured slowly, but I must admit, I too am eager for the night’s festivities to begin.” There’s excitement in his eyes, and Will chides himself for thinking that this older gentleman looks _cute? Sexy? Fuckable?_

Will’s voice quivers, but he cannot quell the sharp burst of excitement that splits from his chest. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“I must say, you are very brave. Out of curiosity what made you respond to the ad?”

_Brave?_

Will’s heart swells from the unexpected compliment. “My friend Beverly said I should try new things, meet people, you know?”

“Well you seem like you’re in prime shape and health. Normally, I would ask you to shower and rid yourself of the ghastly cheap cologne, for fear of it affecting the taste, but I guess we’ll look past it, as you seem so keen to get started.” He says flatly.

“Excuse me?” _He put on his best cologne for this shit._

“Please remove your clothes now.”

Will’s fingers smooth over the top button of his shirt, before prying it apart. The rest of the buttons quickly follow in succession before he thinks to ask, “so how long does this class last?”

“Class?” His host’s eyes trace a pert pink nipple, as he sets down his half emptied glass.

_Wait, remove your clothes?_

“I’m sorry, but what was the ad for?”

“What did you think the ad was for?” Hannibal questions back. He steps closer, his brilliant eyes crinkling in confusion.

“A cooking class?” Will can feel the waves of anxiety wash over him, gripping him tightly. “Why did you think I was here?” He manages to retort, voice thick with uncertainty.

“I was going to eat you, Will.” Hannibal’s voice lowers, and his accent shines through strongly. The cadence is seductive.

 _Did he just say...?_  

“Eat me?”

“Yes. I was going to cook, using you as the meat.”

“Oh.”

Will takes off his glasses and smooths over his face, focusing on the eyes and temple, before placing them on again. He can feel the beginnings of a headache. “Wait, hold on. I have the ad here.” He takes the crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket and makes a minor attempt at smoothing out the creases before giving up entirely, and meekly offering it to the self-admitted cannibal. He wonders whether the chill he feels is due to being partially in the nude in front of a stranger, or from being a prospective sacrifice, although he’s more inclined to believe it’s the former. Regardless, he makes no movement to remedy his state of dress.

“Yes, let me see.” Hannibal looks at the state of the paper in distaste before taking the edges with his forefinger and thumb, quickly scanning the contents. His look of displeasure is evident.

“This is the reason I seldom use secretaries. I am far better off doing things on my own. He must have transcribed my instructions incorrectly.”

Will finds himself nodding along in agreement.

“My accent tends to be quite thick at times. He will have to be properly punished of course.” Hannibal hums thoughtfully. “I meant I want to cook **_using_** you. Not **_with_** you.” He emphasizes.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

 “I do apologize, Will for the confusion caused by my negligence.”

“No, really. You couldn’t have known that your secretary would make a mistake like that.”

_Of course when I try things, they end in disaster._

At a loss of what to do, Will can only laugh, and quiet nervous chuckles soon blossom into full blown deep bellied laughter, rising from the pit of his stomach. _Because of course. Of course the first time that he attempts to try something new, it’s volunteering to be the main course for a fucking cannibal. Well fuck._ Hannibal’s soft peals of laughter soon mix with Will’s deep sounds, and the cacophony of ripples fill the large house, occupying every crevice.  

“It is quite a comical turn of events, but you wouldn’t still be interested would you?” Hannibal asks hopefully, but Will shakes his head. “It’s just not my thing.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your evening, I tend to do that a lot” Will apologizes, feeling obliged to comfort the crestfallen cannibal. “I had my tonsils out recently, could have given you that.”  He adds, not quite sure if he has any real intention of fulfilling that offer. “That would be lovely, thank you. I have a great recipe that would work deliciously with tonsils.” He says in gratitude. “I can still show you how to cook a meal, if you’d like? I do have a stock of ingredients in storage.”

Will pauses, and contemplates the offer, but the look in Hannibal’s eyes sways him.  

_Eh Why not? Meet new people, try new things._

Biting his lip, he shakes his head. “You know what, I think I’m good. How about that instrument you were playing before I arrived?”

“Oh, you mean the Theremin? Interesting instrument that offers a vast array of sounds for someone who can control the right pitch.”

“Yeah that one. Can you show me how to play that? Maybe we can order pizza or something?”

Hannibal scrunches his face at the mention of pizza, but nonetheless happily obliges him. “You’re more than welcome to continue to take off the rest of your shirt, if you’d like.”

 

\------

And later, when Beverly asks Will about his attempt at trying something new, Will just shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, placing the newspaper on the table. The headline announcing a missing secretary takes up a sizable amount of space on the front page.

“Yeah the Theremin is interesting. Hannibal has been busy, but we’re seeing each other on Thursday.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
